


Nous allons enfin nous régaler! (Tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are)

by pingou



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, France - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, UST, food travel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pingou/pseuds/pingou
Summary: 3 ½ month film schedule. 31 countries. 24 episodes... 2 people who might just fall in love along the way.IE. the infamous Food Travel AUThe one where they go from Paris to Lille: Cassian is stressed out, Jyn has hidden talents and everyone enjoys FAR too many sugary treats.Beware: Food galore and emotions ahead, after all Miss, this is France!





	Nous allons enfin nous régaler! (Tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are)

 

## France : Paris-Lille

 

They arrive in France on schedule and thankfully the whole crew has pretty much recovered from their stomach bug by then. Shara Bey looks a bit queasy in the morning perhaps, but everyone is still curious about what their short trip to the country of  _Haute Cuisine_ will entail.

Everyone but Jyn that is, and despite his growing anxiety — because this was France, people! — Cassian can’t help but notice that she has grown more subdued since they’ve picked out their luggage at the airport.

Okay, she’s in a mood and her French is infinitely better than what he personally recalled from High School. It’s true what they say about French being bad at languages, by the way: It’s not that people don’t bother, exactly, it’s more than they’d best not to, their accent makes it hard to understand.

Honestly, he just gives directions in Spanish and there the taxi driver gets it, easier for everyone. Until Jyn stops looking by the window and engages the conversation!

_“Nous ne sommes pas en vacances. On est une équipe de tournage."_

The driver seems ridiculously overjoyed to hear her speak his language and grins at her in the rear-view mirror.

_"Vraiment? Pour le cinéma?"_

_"Non, la télévision, c'est un programme culinaire."_

"You speak French?" Draven interrupts, interest picked. "I didn't know that, it wasn't on your resume."

"Now you do," she shrugs, turning back her attention on the driver.

_"La cuisine française est la meilleure du monde, vous aurez de quoi filmer!"_

_"C'est l'idée. Mais la France n'est pas notre seule destination, on visite plusieurs pays."_

Okay, all of this is so quick and fluid that Cassian can't follow. But he can see Draven's brain gear turning as he insists:

"What did you say?"

"Nothing important, I'm not disclosing anything, don't worry. We're doing a food show for TV, we do several countries. Our friend here thinks French food is the best, obviously, and that we're gonna have a lot to cover."

"It's a given," Cassian smiles, impressed by her proficiency, "it's nice of you to speak up, though. Might facilitate the dialogue, too."

"It's nothing to get excited over," Jyn grumbles, sighing, "I've been to France before and have a knack for language, this is just idle chat anyway."

He can’t explain why but there’s something unsettling for her, that has nothing to do with food poisoning. He's curious, but drops the matter when they make a mandatory stop in a  _boulangerie_ , where Cassian marvels about the variety of breads and pastries offered, not to mention the cakes...

Mothma actually volunteers, Luke is already taking out his smartphone and since Jyn has already proven her ability to speak French, she too is put to contribution. The two other cars choose to proceed however, waiting at the hotel.

Cassian, Mothma Jyn and Luke are originally sent to get some crusty golden  _baguettes_ , of course, their white crumb, thick and soft. Yet a man before them prefers a  _boule de campagne_ , round shaped and thicker still, browner and earthier too.

Fascinating.

Honestly Cassian feels perplexed yet eager to order and the seller is amiable and smiling has she suggests  _viennoiseries_.

"We have to take at least a  _croissant_  and a  _pain au chocolat_  each for everyone," Jyn declares immediately, strangely bossy all of sudden.

"Can we get a brioche too?" Luke asks, eyeing the one in the counter with barely concealed longing.

"Sure, if you want," she agrees easily, translating the order.

"Oh, there's  _chouquettes_  too," Mothma exclaims delightfully, legit clapping like a little girl. Thus a small bag of choux buns with sugar pearls joins the order.

Like she was on a mission, Jyn finally asks for different types of  _croissants_  too:

"The regular type is made of fresh butter," Jyn explains, "but we will take the almond version too."

"Would you like some of our savoury version," the seller asks helpfully, "it's with cheese and ham."

While in English he'd known the  _pains au chocolat_  to be called chocolate croissant — even if the chocolate is hidden within — he gets primly chastised by Jyn:

"Contrary to popular belief, it's not the same thing."

"Sorry, I had no idea. How do you all even know this?"

"My sister Leia likes posh bakeries," Luke says as only explanation.

"Me too, though it's been years since I've had  _chouquettes_ ," Mothma adds.

But to his frustration, Jyn doesn't say anything has she asks for the total. He commits as much information as he can to memory and Mothma actually has to chime in with a few Euros of her own since she, Jyn and Luke kept adding some  _douceurs_ to taste. Clearly they are more familiar with French pastries than they’d let on, but he doesn’t mind being educated on the subject!

In fact Cassian grins wilder as the demeanor of other clients goes from neutral to slightly amused. He even catches something akin to respect on the face of an old lady behind them, as she glances at the pile of sweetness.

Unfortunately, it’s an improvised stop and they can’t film on a whim right now — photos will have to do. That’s a shame, for Monica Mothma isn’t a woman prone to expansiveness and it would have been nice to catch this unscripted madness, even if just for themselves.

Eventually they buy enough to feed an army or for everyone to develop diabetes, at the very least. It’s all for the greater good of the show, of course... They actually film a tiny clip back at their hotel and post a few candids on Instagram.

Kes teases them for their sweet tooth, saying he should have come with just to protect the bakery’s supplies and Draven rolls his eyes, but both are getting their faces stuffed with  _croissants_  and  _pains au chocolat_  so... Though far from constituting a balanced diet, their purchases become the entirety of their evening meal.

To be fair, who knew there was so much type of stuffed  _viennoiseries_  to begin with? It’s almost maddening!

Rationally he knows he shouldn’t indulge so much on the first day but the bread is crispy, the  _brioche_  is sweet but light... choosing is a lost cause and truthfully nobody seems to care.

Jyn is seated across from him though and a tiny speck of chocolate stays struck at the corner of her plush lips. He starts to ogles her mouth and reflexively licks his own — just in case a crumb of his own is there, too — but thankfully she doesn’t pay much attention to the people next to her.

Instead, she keeps staring at an invisible point in her plate. No pastry deserves to be looked at with such sadness unless it got prematurely rotten, and he says as much, eliciting a chuckle from the guys. She momentarily meets his gaze as she bites in her  _pain au chocolat_ again but her spirits have not lifted. Failed attempt then... He hopes his heated cheeks are the result of the two glasses of red wine he had before dessert, he’s not usually this awkward.

But she intrigues him, he wants to know her better! She’s unpredictable too and rather enticing. She proves to be an asset to the show and not just as a Camera Operator. But of course there is no way he’s going to say it. Besides it’s wine and sugar load talking and they have to focus on the French schedule within the next hour.

"Last time I was here, I was 15," she finally reveals, "but there's water under bridge."

If he weren't focused on her, he might have missed it, but like a private oath, she whispers next: "Saw has no place on this job, nor in my life. Paris doesn’t change that."

He's the only one to catch that, but before Cassian can figure out the meaning of this comment, everybody’s head snaps up at hearing Draven clearing his throat:

“By public demand, we will be setting this episode slightly freelance, as we go up North. About the capital, Cassian has an appointment at “ _Au Doux Raisin_ ” tomorrow. It proposes a panel of traditional French dishes that would be interesting to foreign viewers.”

Draven enumerates this in a flat voice, looking bored as usual, yet Cassian starts to freak out internally: France was renowned for its  _Cuisine_. He even follows French cooking shows in his spare time! How is he supposed to do his own thing despite the legions of stuff available?

“Sorry to interrupt Sir, but how are we supposed to squeeze several sets in so little time? As far as I know, most traditional French recipes involve spending quite a bit of time if not the whole day over the stove.”

“Don’t fret Andor,” the Director retorts impatiently, “it’s not like you’re be the one doing the cooking, right? So spare me the nerves. Thanks to our split filming teams, most material will be easily covered too. You just have to taste and judge, not really a hardship for you, I suspect.”

No, perhaps not. But Cassian doesn’t like the way his Director is handling things tonight. Tension increases a bit in the room but he keeps his trap shut, not wanting to spark things off on their first night here. The traveling show was already bumpy enough as far as he’s concerned so better not add to the man’s frustration.

“I wanted to see the sights a bit. It’s the city of lights, it’s every lover’s dream,” Kes mumbles.

Unfortunately, it seems that he's not discreet enough.

“Dameron, if you want to play the tourist, plan a romantic vacation for your fiancée AFTER the rush. We’ve got no time for that and moreover, I don’t care for your personal life,” Draven chastises in a clipped tone.

Cassian suppresses a sigh but the case is closed, crew eventually dismissed for the night. He’s pretty sure Draven was a military at some point before going into production or he is one in an alternate universe, with the way he’s usually behaving...

 

 

* * *

 

The next day, the crew did some sightseeing before their appointment — they could not be here and not pause in front of the Eiffel Tower, couldn’t they?

"Come on, we gotta have a picture with all of us! It's Paris guys, you can't be more French than that!"

"We won't all fit on a single one," Wedge Antilles says.

"You already had me posing in London, Skywalker, I'm not doing this again. Besides, Cassian is the one that should feature, he's the face of the show."

"Please Jyn, it'd be a group pic, not just you this time. A memento. Don't you want to show this to your friend Bodhi?"

Damn Luke and his boyishness... Everyone caves, elbows and shoulders squeezed together awkwardly. As Kes and Shara are the only couple, they also strike a cheesy pose for prosperity, likely adding some "romance" to the collection.

They ignore people seeking them for money or whatever petition they wanted to get a signature for though... Some details must be glossed over.

"We're not airing on a discovery channel," Draven says, already checking his watch, "most of the tedious editing falls on Kay’s team anyway. Let's get going."

Of course, for professional purposes Cassian forgoes lunch, preferring to nimble on a sandwich so he’d be famished when the time to shoot arrives.

And arrive it does.

A van comes to pick them up and their materials for the intended point of rendezvous between the  _Jardin du Luxembourg_  and the  _Jardin Des Plantes,_ in the 5th  _Arrondissement_. Quite a pretty place and Luke already mumbles about some hashtags and photos he’d like to take afterwards.

When they finally enter the b _rasserie_ called “Au Doux Raisin”  (At the sweet grapefruit) — a little before the opening, obviously, for the team has to settle — they instantly find themselves in a typical homey Parisian environment. From the very first second Cassian knows why the production chose this establishment in particular:

The meals offered represent just as many potential discoveries, yet not always the cheapest — within reasonable price range nonetheless. The  _brasserie_ sets a real atmosphere with portraits in black and white of old famous actors, an old-fashioned counter and something in the air so uniquely French that he’s surprised the staff doesn’t wear berets with white striped shirts.

Truthfully, everyone is excited, including Jyn who looks oddly happy to be there.

“We’re somewhere straight out of the movie  ** _Les Tontons flingueurs_** ,” she says, watching their surroundings with sparkling eyes. At the lack of response she gets, she prompts: “You know,  _Crooks in Clover_ , also known as Monsieur Gangster? Ring a bell?”

To be honest the actors look familiar, Jean Gabin and Lino Ventura most of all, but nobody shares her excitement and she automatically returns to her defensive stance:

“What? I’m a cinephile and actually did study film making, you know? These actors are legendary among French cinema, you must have at least heard of some of them!”

“Somewhat. I'm more interested in the fact that this is the first time that I've caught you smiling since we’ve left England.”

Cassian only wished to put her out of her misery as they prepared the set. He gets a bit jittery before the beginning of each filming session so he likes to see people enjoying themselves, it calms him down. Yet somehow it was the wrong thing to say and her lit-up face turns stony as she replies:

“Yeah, well, let’s get this done.”

Smooth, Andor, well done, he thinks sarcastically as Draven yells action and a waiter gives him the menu. Most of the crew will stick to plates of  _charcuterie_  and cheese but he has a few possibilities to consider. Of course the list has been communicated beforehand, but ultimately Cassian always has the final choice, to stay as genuine as possible and because he prefers to eat whatever strikes his fancy. It’s more digestible in case of several takes.

Finally he chooses a “Bourguignon meal”: traditional snails then beef and wine stew, a plate of cheese and some  _crème brûlée_  to finish. Plentiful but really appetizing. Of course, if it weren’t for the show, he’d just stick with some of the various  _grâtins_  and be done with it, but the place calls for gluttony and as a presenter he has to make sure viewers will be satisfied.

If the French can stomach as much in one sitting, so will he.

(Still, he’s thankful Kay’s not currently with him or he’d be sure to get an earful...)

The preliminary speech done in a single take, the first course comes quickly. Famous  _escargots_ , classic of the French to eat snails, so the occasion was too good to pass on.

Cassian already had some experience tasting snails in the French way, had enjoyed it so he thought he didn’t have to mask his facial expressions.

He was wrong.

The promised “ _Gros Escargots de Bourgogne_ ” come in front of him and truth be told they look appealing enough. But what the heck is he supposed to make of the... unusual cutlery... that the waiter brought along? It looks more like a surgical instrument than anything Cassian has ever used.

This  _entrée_  should come with warnings, explanatory note and step by step tutorial included.

For a split second Cassian blinks owlishly at the camera then he recovers, a consummate professional. Should be easily enough, really, right? A circular plate with six stuffed snails in their shells... a tiny fork with two tines... and pliers of some kind? It has a spring with a round extremity, obviously meant to keep the shell in place while with the fork he’s supposed to stab what’s inside.

Alright, I’ve got it, he reflects after a few nano seconds  of appraisal.

He doesn’t bother with explaining his course of action yet, focused on the task at hand while he states that the snails are cooked with a butter mixed with chopped garlic and parsley.

He looms over the snail closest to him, lift it slowly from his dedicated hole in the plate... but he hasn’t got the chance to use the fork. The damned thing escapes from the contraption and literally flies several feet away from his stunned face.

Nobody moves, not even Draven says cut, yet Cassian stares dumbly at the ruined snail on the floor, hidden two tables away from his. From the way Jyn angles the camera, he guesses she’s zooming on it too...

Fucking French!

It takes three tries for him to master the so called “ _pince à escargots_ ” — to the utter delight of the crew around him, as they personally try some  _pâté de lapin à l’ancienne_ ,  _saucisson sec_  or  _saucisson à l’ail_  and smelly cheese like  _Camembert_  or  _Roquefort_.

By the time the  _Bœuf Bourguignon_  is served, he feels oddly proud to have won against the perfidy of posh  _Gastronomie_ , despite his bruised ego. Thankfully the beef stew is not as challenging, with a regular, universal and most of all reliable knife. Not that he really needs to cut anything, mind you: from what he knows of the process, the beef has macerated in red wine for hours to get this tender. The serving is pretty generous too, and it comes with boiled potatoes, mushrooms, onions and carrots. Thyme and laurel too, to perfume the whole.

He’s full when the four types of cheese come next but he explains the different milks each of them were made of. He actually has flash cards ready on his knees like a cheating schoolboy but their filming time turning short calls for desperate measures. At the dessert he struggles to get through. It’s delicious, it’s just that he reached the peak of his sugary intake. After a few spoonfuls immortalized on film, he hands the rest to Shara’s extended hands.

Overall, good stuff, really. Two glasses of red wine to complete the meal and footage aside, Cassian is more than satisfied with his Parisian trip.

They wrap it up, shake a few hands but take their time calling it a night. Paris is bewitching in the evening and the company is boisterous as they go along the shores of the Seine. Cassian uses it to his advantage, walking his meal off and doing his best to ignore the taunts made over the snail incident.

"I couldn't believe the famous Cassian Andor got bested by a snail. One that was already dead and cooked too," Jyn teases.

"Hey, I succeeded eventually, and it's not the snail as much as the tool that's to blame."

"Still, I thought you'd have more dexterity."

"Sorry to disappoint you, I'll do better next time."

It’s all in good sports really, but while Jyn snorts, Antilles sniggers and Luke stumbles, slamming against his back, blushing inexplicably. What has gotten into them? But she's still smiling as they drive back to the hotel and suddenly he doesn’t mind the French and their peculiarities so much. The production duo have still a decent amount of work before going to bed, but everyone else goes to sleep.

(Maybe Kes and Shara got MIA along the way but the contract doesn’t bind them to a curfew and Mothma turns a blind eye).

Cassian only wishes he had that much freedom as the so called star of the show. But it has been a long day and he would have nobody to share a nightly tryst. Cassian Andor is reasonable, professional and single to boot, so it doesn’t cost him much.

 

* * *

 

 

His dreams are fitful and slightly disturbing though. Jolting awake only five hours later, the only image that stays with him is of Jyn, replacing Nicole Kidman’s part in the  ** _Moulin Rouge!_**  movie. She looked tantalizing in his subconscious and very not herself: less pragmatic and more eerily sexy.

He shakes the feeling away as he dresses himself. He has a long day ahead and can’t afford to fantasize about the only unattached woman in his crew. She’s a pretty thing and kinda mysterious too, but he is awake now and the dreamy bullshit has no incidence on his job.

He decides to tiptoe in the free area, seeking a cup of herbal tea. Whether mint or ginger should help with the food overload from the night before, surely such things could be found on the table set for self service?

He forgets all about beverages the instant he sees Jyn awake over an hotplate, her back to him. As her name stumbles from his lips, disbelieving, she stiffens visibly and spins slowly around.

Her voice is still sleepy and his annoyingly raspy as they greet each other. In November, the sun isn’t up so early and won’t be for quite some time, unfortunately and the bleached out white neon lights accentuate the exhaustion on her face. Very far from a dreamy cabaret dancer, his mind evaluates worriedly. Has she even slept? She’s dressed in her usual clothes already and ignores the elephant in the room as she asks why he too is already awake.

“I ate too much,” he answers.

“Well of course you did, not everyone can eat as much as the French do just before going to bed. Stomachache?”

“No, just energy of the calories pumping through my veins.”

“How do you plan to work it out then?”

He represses a smirk. With her velvet morning voice, it sounded a lot like an opening for innuendo. She realizes this a second too late and just purses her lips. They are not yet close enough to tease each other, so he throws her a lifeline and gestures to the food he interrupted.

“Isn’t it what you’re doing in the kitchen Jyn?”

“I wish. It’s just... I needed an outlet and I thought I’d best do something useful. Couldn’t wake my best friend.”

He wanted to ask her about what she needed an outlet for, yet people keep appearing and she visibly closes off. Obviously Cassian isn’t the only one awake as the self-service kitchen fills in slowly with the rest of the team. Fat chance, again. He sits, rubbing the back of his neck and mutters a hello.

“What’s the delicious smell I can sniff?” Luke asks, entering the room, nose upturned and honest to God sniffing the air like the human puppy he usually personifies.

“The bread and brioche won’t keep for much longer. So I’m making  _pain perdu_ ,” Jyn answers, sending a fleeting smile in his direction.

“Lost bread,” Kes translates confusedly, eyeing the slices slowly browning in the pan, “what is lost about it?”

“Dunno, it’s just the name,” she sighs, repeating the process to make enough for everybody.

Or maybe the food isn’t the lost thing here, Cassian muses, she is, her tired eyes and forlorn attitude hinting as much. Then, realizing how stupid his thoughts are, he mentally slaps himself and hands the coffee pot to Wedge Antilles, who is blindly reaching for it, like a drowning man and a lifebelt, a junkie and his fix.

Seriously, besides Luke and himself, Cassian wonders how these people can do this work and NOT be morning people. Like, never ever. Kay has complained he had to put with them grumping and groaning until the clock reached 8 AM in the past, but at the time, he thought his friend was being his usual pessimistic self. But as he considers the bunch of sleepyheads around, he has to admit there was some truth to it.

When a plate arrives in front of him, with icing sugar or cinnamon for him to add on if he so wishes, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“You told me you didn’t how to cook,” he says, mildly accusatory.

He leaves the first slice bare, adds sugar on the second and cinnamon on the third, to have the full tasting range. As soon as he tries the first, the goodness dissolves on his tongue, creamy and buttery, the two variations making a perfect combination between sweetness and a tad spicy. He knows various ways to save stale bread, but somehow this tastes different. Besides them Luke was already helping himself with a second serving, grinning.

“Please, this isn't cooking Cassian,” Jyn shrugs. “I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve had this.”

“Not like that, though, this is unique. How did you do it?”

Most of all he wants to know what prompted her to fix this at six in the morning. But even if he had the nerve to ask, she likely wouldn’t answer. So, asking for her recipe was as close as he was willing to go.

“I made the slices my own way. More often than not people use eggs where I used milk. Once the slices suck up all the milk, getting slightly spongy again, I put them in a salt-buttered pan. Easy, not  _haute cuisine_.”

Easy perhaps, but her wistful tone speaks of something more. He knows preparing food can reveal a lot about a person — hell, that was the reason he got enrolled in all this cooking stuff in the first place… — and… well, he remembers their stunt at the Lahmu Restaurant in London. Clearly her relationship to food is… personal.

God, why Kay isn’t here to smack the corniness out of his head?! He almost feels like using a pan on his own skull if that could just stop his brain from overanalyzing a mere breakfast plate.

He doesn’t even have time for this, with the shooting schedule they have to maintain. After all, he might envy other people’s low functioning brains, they are saved much trouble.  

Draven announces their Parisian Interlude is over and satisfactory — praise the Lord for that — but he still has a surprise in store...

 

 

* * *

 

“A… bus?”

“Yes,” Draven confirms, ”we should be grateful, it’s fully furbished too, functional, and a bit cheaper.”

“Whatever spares us a flight,” Dameron says in relief.

“You don’t like flying?” Jyn asks, surprised.

“If I have to take hop on a plane, I will. It’s way quicker, after all. But yeah, if I have to choose, road’s better. Plus, we can build team spirit or whatever. It’d be like a school trip.”

“Oh yeah,” Luke cheers, absurdly enticed with the idea, “I’m sure our followers would dig that kind of thing, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jyn shrugs, “I never went on school trips, or I was so young I don’t remember. It’s weird.”

“It’ll be a new experience for you then,” Cassian encourages.

“I guess, but why do you care so much?”

(Good question.)

“We’re all in the same train wreck, we gotta stick together.”

(What was that nonsense... for sure if Kay ever heard him talk like that, he would deck him so hard his face wouldn’t be filmed for weeks!)

They take the A1 highway up North, chatting, napping, playing on phones... and yes, to Draven’s utter dismay, there are stupid songs involved at some point. Dameron started, Cassian picked up, and soon everyone was at least humming along. Perhaps because the driver couldn’t take it anymore, they stop in a rest area about midway until they reach Lille, the northern city that ends the French episode. As if the crew’s sugary consumption weren’t already high, they picked sweets again, albeit regional:

Two metal boxes, one with some minty ones called the  _Bêtises de Cambrai_  and the other containing toffee-like  _Babeluttes du Nord_ , to have a foretaste of their next local cuisine.

If they’re still alive to document it because Cassian swears he’s gonna die of hyperglycemia before they reach Amsterdam!

 

 

* * *

 

They have just one day left to shoot in France when they arrive in Lille two hours later, but they make it work. The city, nicknamed “the capital of Flanders” is picturesque in a different way than Paris, of course, but just as pretty. Places with fountains, houses made of red bricks and old cobbled streets, it’s nice.

As they have little time to spare — yet again — the rushes get more hectic than in Paris. It’s much less representative after all.

The people there talk pretty funny, with words even Jyn has a hard time deciphering, but all are very accommodating and helpful. A few wave at the camera and suggest a dish to try. It’s much more easygoing and Cassian relaxes pretty soon.

Not wanting to spoil any Belgian discovery by choosing a dish similar to what can be offered further North, he decides to try « a Welsh ». Like its name implies, this is not originally a French recipe but it became one of the easiest specialty to eat in Lille:

It is a sandwich composed of bread soaked with beer, cheddar cheese and mustard, covered with a slice of ham, dipped into a cream of cheddar cheese, heated in the oven in a ramekin. Not the most elaborate of the establishment they picked, but it works perfectly with their thematic for the French episode and their lack of time.

Indeed,  _La Chicorée_  (The Chicory) is a  _brasserie_  like the one in Paris. Except it’s actually an hundred-year-old brewery, not just for the fancy name, and it’s open pretty late, until 4:30 AM. They are told it’s renowned, too, and Cassian can believe that easily.

For dessert, because apparently the mad guys around him have an insane tolerance for sugary treats, or really want him to die on the job, they have some stuffed waffles with  _cassonade_. This version is thin, thankfully, crunchy, though the garnish of vanilla and brown sugar is most likely rich.

“I hadn’t had those in ages,” Jyn says drowsily, waiting for the Lille-Amsterdam flight a while later. “I bought some for my best friend, but I’m not sure I’ll resist the temptation for long. I’ll have to send them to him.”

“Really? How come? It’s good, but it’s not like it’s so addicting,” Cassian asks, because he still feels curious — perhaps sleepy Jyn is more inclined to share anecdotes?

“Wrong, they are addicting. I loved them as a young girl. I’ve spent some time in France over the years, but none so much as northern France. We were British, after all, so crossing the Chanel was easy and Saw... I mean, I’d known an old lady, Louise, who did such waffles for me.”

Yep, oversharing, he thinks with a smile, and there she is talking about a Saw again. More like eluding but it’s more talk than he ever heard from her. The schedule must take its toll on her, same as anyone else.

"You've spent holidays in France then, growing up?"

"My guardian actually had a job in France for a time. He was stationed not so very far from here for about a year, before we moved again."

"So the wanderlust goes way back? It explains why you took on the travelling show."

"Maybe. Saw and I never stuck around for long anywhere, but I've been happy there, it brings good memories for once."

At her conflicted expression, he guesses such good memories are far in between. He recalls her enigmatic whisper from a few days ago and surmises she must have had a falling out with her guardian. Cassian doesn't pry further though when she doesn't elaborate, but he stores the information for later.  

He’s almost snoozing when Draven — no human has the right to be this operative at 3AM... — hands him his phone, mouthing Kay’s name:

“Hello, Kay?”

“Cassian, did I wake you?”

“No, but that was close. Not everyone can be focused on the show 24/7, like Draven, or you. I feel like I’m slowly losing my soul to the cause.”

“Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear. And you’re as dedicated as the rest of us, you’re just being unusually whiny.”

“Well, you’re not here yet to keep me in check so I can be as petty as I want. I’ll feel better after we leave the country and get some sleep.”

“I’ve seen the first French rushes, actually, to see if they could be easily edited with ours. I have to say it’s fairly entertaining to witness your culinary struggles, Cassian. Especially the snail fetching.”

“Thanks a lot, Kay,” he deadpans.

“I’m serious, honestly it should make the final cut.”

“Did your illness kill your brain cells? What part of the first try should be included? The moment the snail flew across the room or the framing on my butt as I had to get on my knees under the table to retrieve it?”

“Well, I’ll leave it for Draven to decide,” his soon-to-be former friend replies wryly. “But just so you know, it could bring in more female viewers.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m realistic Cassian, you have a very nice bottom apparently and judging from the people’s enthusiastic reaction on social media, you’d better use it."

“I... don’t even know what to say to that. Do you even hear yourself?”

“I’m referring to the show’s ratings, not your sex life Cassian Jerón Andor! You know what, we will speak later, once you’ve put your mind out of the gutter!”

“I love you too man,” Cassian smirks.

Only the dial answers him.


End file.
